


always for you

by snowyseas



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I cried writing this, M/M, chef!haru, fireman!makoto, makoharu - Freeform, so worth it tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowyseas/pseuds/snowyseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto is a fireman, and Haru is a chef. Makoto deals with a hell of a lot of pain while on the job, what with Haru being in danger and all. Happy ending, I promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always for you

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I suck. I haven't updated my other MakoHaru fic and I am already writing this one-shot in celebration of the second season ;__; please love me. Anyway, I hardly write fluff like this. I did tear up, like when I wrote Five Things (And One More) a couple of months ago. Please enjoy, and feedback is much appreciated! I haven't written fluff in a long time okay. Please bear with me!

The kitchen smelt of rice and mackerel, and as Makoto breathed in the aroma, he smiled at the familiarity, at the home and haven he found in Haru’s quirky habits. He walked down the stairs as he fixed his uniform, buckling the metal at his waist into place, tightening his suspenders before pulling on his jacket. His helmet sat on a countertop in the kitchen near Haru, and Makoto smiled.

“I was looking for that,” he said when Haru lifted his eyes from the dining table.

“You left it on the sofa last night when you came home.”

“I did?”

“You were too preoccupied to notice, I guess.”

Makoto blushed at the intentional jab Haru made at him, when he came home a little bit, and a lot drunk. He laughed and moved over to kiss Haru’s cheek, bidding him good morning before sitting down at the dining table as Haru filled his plate with the perfect amount of rice and fish. Makoto filled his mouth happily and smiled at Haru when he sat down across from him, his own plate filled with food. They ate in silence for a few minutes, exchanging words of routine every now and then -- asking who’d take out the trash that night, or who’d run the bath that night, or who’d wash the dishes that night.

“Speaking of which, you got a promotion, Haru!”

“Uh-huh, and so what?”

“We should celebrate your new position as a sous chef!”

“It’s not that big a deal, Makoto.”

“Yes, it is. We’re celebrating. When do you come home?”

“I might be working late. It’s a Friday, after all. Lots of customers.”

“Okay. Well, I have some people to train today, so maybe we’ll come back at the same time.”

Haru nodded as he sipped his glass of water, and Makoto kissed his forehead before heading out the door with his helmet in hand, Haru reminding him he’d be late. It was routine for Makoto to dry the dishes after Haru washed them, but after the previous night’s endeavors, Haru urged Makoto to get to work before he got in trouble. Haru always started work later in the day, and thus, if Makoto came home earlier, the house would always be spotless -- particularly the kitchen, where Makoto’s favorite meals were in the fridge, ready to be heated.

Makoto arrived at work earlier than most of his colleagues, and for that, he rolled his eyes as he remembered Haru’s warning at being late. He sighed and strolled towards the stairs, heading up to the second floor of the building where his boss sat, watching the morning news.

“Have we gotten any calls?” Makoto asked politely once he settled into a chair.

“Nah, I’d’ve called you if there were any,” Makoto’s superior, Takeuchi, answered gruffly.

Makoto looked around the room and only three other firemen were present, one of them being an intern he was meant to train. He took off his helmet and set it aside, relaxing into the chair he sat upon, his demeanor content. Takeuchi regarded him kindly, and shuffled papers on his desk before gesturing to Makoto to hold a white, unopened envelope.

“What’s this, Takeuchi-san?” Makoto asked, surprised.

“It’s your pay.”

“But you gave us our pay last week.”

“This is your _raise_ , Tachibana. Accept it graciously.”

Makoto held the envelope between his clumsy fingers and grinned wide, and he made a mental note to celebrate with Haru that night. He walked over to his cubby in the corner of the room and settled it underneath his extra pair of boots that he kept, in case his current pair became too tattered to wear in emergencies. He bowed before Takeuchi and sat back down, his face and eyes lit up so much that he felt joy exude the room.

“Thank you so much, Takeuchi-san.”

“You’ve been working hard, kid. It’s the least I can do.”

Makoto nodded and watched the news with Takeuchi, the man making comments every now and then about crime rates and how disappointed he was in mankind at times, or how the economy always seemed to improve just slightly before the country experienced a recession. He said it was all unfair, and Makoto nodded politely and replied with snarky comments only when it was appropriate.

“Yo, Tachibana! Takeuchi! Why are you guys here early?”

“It’s freakin’ ten o’clock, ya bastards. You’re freakin’ late,” Takeuchi rolled his eyes as he answered.

“What? No way, last time I checked it was still nine-fifteen!” a light-haired fireman answered as he checked his watch.

“Yamaguchi, you better get that watch checked. I know I pay you enough to get shit like that fixed.”

Makoto shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the growing tension in the room. The guy named Yamaguchi noticed and laid a hand on Makoto’s shoulder, his smile encouraging.

“You know how Takeuchi is, Tachibana. We’re just fuckin’ around,” he laughed.

“Oh, ah, yeah! I’m still not used to that,” Makoto laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Speaking of which, how’s Nanase doing?” Takeuchi asked, and Makoto’s face burned up.

“Ah, Haru’s doing great, thanks. He got a promotion, actually.”

“That’s great, kid. You can celebrate together.”

Makoto smiled and stood up, ready to start the day at work. The interns waited on the first floor for their supervisors to help them, and Takeuchi gave out orders on how to train ‘kids that didn’t know how to play with fire, or dance the fire dance,’ and the team chuckled before meeting the interns, who were all pacing around the room when Makoto and his colleagues came downstairs. They ran fire drills and reminded the interns to stop, drop, and roll, and reminded them of the rules that existed in their headquarters:

Rule #1: Always protect yourself before protecting others.

Rule #2: If you are safe, always try your hardest to save someone else.

Rule #3: Do not give up until the person you are trying to save opens their eyes.

Makoto repeated these three rules that each fireman in the building lived by religiously, and with gentle fervor, he encouraged the interns to memorize them, too. Saving lives was a big responsibility, he reminded them, and although they did not have the same dignity as doctors did, firemen risked their lives everyday for other people, for other species, even. The eyes of each intern lit up at Makoto’s encouragement, and his colleagues watched with grins on their faces, as Makoto was the most recent recruit before the interns, and he had bloomed into a fine fireman.

“If you remember these three rules, you will be successful. You will fulfill your job as a fireman. It’s a huge responsibility, so don’t you dare back out, once you’ve started. We’re counting on you.”

Yamaguchi and the others brought the interns for drills outside using the firetrucks. Makoto chose to stay behind, and sent a text message to Haru telling him he had good news. After only a few seconds, Haru replied saying that he couldn’t wait for it, and with that, Makoto put his phone away, his gentle smile on his face. Takeuchi watched from where he was sitting, and smiled himself.

“That Nanase kid is good for you.”

“Huh? How do you mean, Takeuchi-san?”

“He seems to be feeding you well, and taking care of you. Men who work jobs like ours need partners like that.”

Makoto blushed and laughed, slightly creeped out at the way his superior always seemed to bring Haru into the conversation. They continued to talk about various things, including Takeuchi’s wife and kids at home, and Makoto’s and Haru’s swimming club in high school. They laughed and checked the radio for sightings of a fire, and Makoto even helped Takeuchi with the paperwork that was meant to be dealt with a month ago, but Takeuchi had waved it off, saying he’d do them later. As they stamped papers in silence, the fire station’s telephone rang, and Makoto continued shuffling as Takeuchi picked up the phone.

“Has the fire spread? We’ll be right there,” Takeuchi said with resolve.

“Tachibana, get the rest of the guys who are still downstairs. There’s a fire.”

“Where is it?”

“Fifteen minutes from here. We gotta go fast,” Takeuchi replied as he slipped on his jacket and helmet.

“Fifteen minutes from here?  What’s the place called?” Makoto called out as he ran down the stairs, helmet in hand.

“Some restaurant called The Fish Bay.”

Makoto’s face lost all color as he stood in the doorway of the fire station, his eyes set dead on his superior. He stumbled as he tried to maintain his balance and quickly ran to the driver’s seat, buckling his seatbelt, his eyes filling with tears. Takeuchi climbed in beside him, shouting orders while not looking at Makoto directly, and the other men climbed on top of the truck via the ladder. Makoto wiped his eyes with his sleeve, reversed out of the station, and drove as fast as he could.

_Haru._

* * *

 The men on top of the truck had prepared the hose and were now trying to put out the fire at the main entrance, so Takeuchi and Makoto could go inside and look for people who might’ve been trapped inside. Makoto looked around, seeing familiar faces of the chefs he’d met before, and his heart dropped when he couldn’t find the face of the person he loved most. He ran into the building, and shouted for Takeuchi to look upstairs while he looked in the kitchen. Makoto broke through the back door, where it read ‘staff only’ and frantically searched underneath the tables and in the corners of the room. Makoto was about to leave when he caught a glimpse of dark hair near the freezer, completely unconscious, his face battered and black from the ashes, sweat dripping down his face.

“Haru!” Makoto screamed as he rushed over to his best friend, and shook his shoulders, his own hands trembling.

“Haru, wake up! Wake up!”

When no response came, Makoto sucked in a breath and picked up Haru, carrying him in his arms as he kicked the door open and ran past the now fallen furniture before him, careful not to hurt Haru’s unconscious body. Takeuchi had carried out two more people, and had reassured everyone that there were no other people in the building aside from Haru. Upon seeing Makoto’s dejected face and Haru’s closed eyes, Takeuchi called 119 hastily, asking for an ambulance.

Makoto gently laid him down and his tears clouded his vision as he desperately clenched his teeth together, trying to hold _everything_ together. He checked Haru’s breathing, and tilted his head up. He started with chest compressions and counted in his head, and when Haru didn’t open his eyes, Makoto could no longer wipe the tears from his face.

“Wake up, Haru! For fuck’s sake, Haru-chan! Wake up, wake _up_!” Makoto screamed as he continued chest compressions and repositioned Haru’s head.

The crowd behind him stayed quiet as Makoto desperately tried to revive his best friend, his most important person, and they watched with horror, with sadness, with grief, with _regret_. Takeuchi’s eyes drooped as he watched Makoto’s shoulders shake, and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“Tachibana.”

“It’s fine, I’m doing it.”

“Tachibana, that’s enough.”

“No!” Makoto screamed, his voice shaky. “No, I will _not_ give up! Rule number three of being a fireman: _Never_ give up until the person you are saving has opened their eyes!”

Takeuchi’s shoulders slumped and he backed away, giving Makoto air to breathe, to think, to feel.

When Makoto’s chest compressions no longer worked, he listened to Haru’s heart, and discovered it was faint. He pressed his forehead against Haru’s chest and his head pounded as he, without hesitation, leaned forward, pinching Haru’s nose as he clamped his mouth over his, praying to every god that he knew of to please save him, to please save Haru, his Haru -- his Haru-chan. More tears fell from his eyes onto Haru’s cheeks as he breathed into Haru’s mouth, and Makoto pleaded with Haru to wake up.

_Please wake up._

_Don’t leave me, Haru-chan._

Makoto continued to breathe into Haru’s mouth -- and he didn’t care that he was tired. While he knew it was the law to stop when you were tired, the ambulance still had not gotten to the scene. He breathed his life into Haru, willing to share it with Haru, _just please open your eyes, Haru_. It felt like a lifetime for the ambulance to arrive, but when they did, the paramedics asked Makoto to move aside and they carried Haru on a stretcher into the van. Takeuchi spoke with one of them, and begged for Makoto to be able to hold Haru’s hand through the ride to the hospital. Makoto walked forward when a petite woman, who wore the same uniform as Haru, came up to Makoto.

“I am so sorry. It was all my fault.”

“Huh?” Makoto blinked

“If I hadn’t left the fish burning on the grill, Haruka-kun never would’ve tried to put it out. He would’ve escaped.”

Makoto stared in awe.

“He was helping you?” Makoto asked, his voice hushed.

“He always does, and I am so sorry, again.”

Makoto nodded and thanked her, and his heart continued to break and the pieces scattered throughout his body when he realized that under no circumstance would Haru abandon someone. Even if it was someone he worked with for a short time -- he would not abandon them and blame them. He would save them, he would protect them.

It was so Haru, that Makoto felt his hands curl into fists, angry and sad that Haru was sometimes more selfless than even he himself was.

“Tachibana, go with the paramedics. We’ll follow behind.”

Makoto rushed to Haru’s side and the paramedics asked him if he could continue the CPR, and Makoto nodded solemnly, placing his palms on the correct parts of Haru’s chest, and he pressed, his tears long dried.

* * *

 Makoto sat on the chair next to Haru’s bed and held his hand tightly, squeezing every now and then, just to feel him there. He whispered that he loved Haru, so so much, even if he did something as stupid as not leaving the building and instead trying to save something that was beyond saving. Of course Haru would think that the fish could still be saved. Makoto pressed his lips against Haru’s knuckles and his shoulders shook, but no tears fell from his eyes. The solemn gesture still did not wake Haru, and the tube that was meant to give him oxygen was not speeding up the process enough.

Makoto watched the oxygen tube and willed it to work, prayed for it to work. For Haru, always for Haru.

He sighed and leaned back against his chair, not once letting go of Haru’s hand. He sat there for a few minutes, remembering how things were so normal in the morning, how everything was a routine, until Haru’s restaurant had to catch fire.

“Tachibana?” The gruff voice of Takeuchi sounded from the hallway, and Makoto called for him to come inside the room.

Yamaguchi and the other men followed, their eyebrows knitted together.

“How’s he doing?” Yamaguchi asked, his voice small. Very unlike him.

“He’s doing better. The CPR helped, they said.”

“That’s good to hear. Do they know how long it’ll take?”

“They said it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Will he be released today?”

“Yeah. They ran some tests already and said he’s fine, he just needs to wake up.”

The room became silent and when Makoto looked at his colleagues, they all gave him a sympathetic smile, and he found that he hated it. He knew it wasn’t their fault, that they didn’t know how to deal with this, or what to say, but it still annoyed him that their smiles were so sympathetic -- that, even though as firemen they understood the heavy weight of the possibility of loss, the only thing they could afford to offer was sympathy.

“He’ll be fine, Tachibana,” Takeuchi whispered when the other men left the room.

“I know.”

“Stop worrying, then.”

“It’s just. This has happened. I almost drowned. Haru… Haru did not hesitate at all, but how. He felt. He must’ve gone through so much. He was so goddamn strong, and I can’t keep it together right now. I can’t even imagine --”

“You’re holding it together better than you think, Tachibana. Nanase would be proud.”

Makoto thanked Takeuchi long after he left, his voice small.

To make the time pass quicker, Makoto wet a cloth with cold water and pressed it to Haru’s forehead, before wiping the rest of Haru’s face. He wasn’t sweating, nor was he dirty from the ashes and smoke, but Makoto was hoping that the feel of water on his face might wake him, might make him open his eyes. Makoto laid his head near Haru’s hand and breathed, and before he could wet the cloth again to wipe Haru’s forehead, his eyes had fluttered closed and he dreamt a dark dream where there was no noise, and no Haru.

When Makoto came to, it was not because he had slept through the night, and it certainly was not because the nurses had woken him. He felt fingers -- delicate fingers -- comb through his hair softly, lovingly, so very much like the way Haru threaded his fingers through his hair before they fell asleep each night. Makoto slowly moved and with his hand, held Haru’s, his eyes widening when Haru’s face came into his vision, smiling.

“You slept a long time,” the blue-eyed boy whispered.

“Haru --”

“I know.”

Makoto’s face scrunched up and he began to cry, his silent sobs filling his chest and Haru stroked his face with his soft hands, his soft, pale, _lovely_ hands. Makoto let Haru comfort him and he kissed each of Haru’s palms, a silent thank you for waking up.

“You know, I heard you,” Haru said after a few minutes, when Makoto brushed his bangs out of his face.

“Hmm? When?”

“The whole time. Begging me to wake up.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

Makoto’s heart thumped in his chest when Haru’s eyes softened, and his smile turned into a small frown.

“I couldn’t move. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, Haru.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“I’m sorry I put _you_ through that, all those years ago.”

Haru’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch at Makoto’s exasperation, his eyebrows knitted together, signaling to Makoto that he was deep in thought.

“Why are you bringing that up? I told you, it was all for saving you.”

“Haru. I know how much you were freaking out.”

“You do, now?”

“Yes,” Makoto took a deep breath and blurted, “because I felt it the whole time I was trying to save you.”

Haru did not answer, and instead, looked towards his hands now holding Makoto’s. He made circles with his thumbs, and Makoto watched Haru’s face go from uncomfortable to upset. It was a subtle change, but it was there, especially in the eyebrows, and Makoto sighed.

“It was for you, Haruka. Always for you.”

“Makoto.”

“Yes, Haru.”

Without hesitating, Haru leaned forward and kissed Makoto’s forehead softly, his hands tugging tightly at Makoto’s, and all Makoto could feel and think was the way Haru was always so loving towards him, so caring, and refused to let him believe otherwise. He smiled and chuckled, embarrassed and giddy and happy at all once. Haru leaned over Makoto’s shoulders and pressed the button on the nightstand to call for the nurse, so that he could be discharged.

“It’s time to go home,” Haru smiled, and Makoto nodded, his heart soaring once again.

* * *

**E P I L O G U E**

Haru had insisted that he was in perfect condition to walk, but upon stumbling over the cracks in the pavement, Makoto asked Haru to resign himself and let himself be carried home. Haru protested, saying something about how Makoto was too embarrassing, and Makoto chuckled, relieved that his partner was slowly acting like himself again. Makoto carried him, in the end, and when Haru helped by turning the doorknob, the two of them laughed as they passed through the threshold.

“It’s like we’re married.”

“Well, we’re not far from that, anyway,” Haru shrugged as Makoto set him down on the sofa.

“That’s true. We should actually… you know. Talk about that.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Who proposes to who?”

“You’re making this hard, Makoto,” Haru groaned as he threw his head against the soft cushion.

“But, Haru! We can’t just propose at the same time.”

“We can.”

“Plus, we haven’t even celebrated our jobs -- wait, what?”

“We can do that after. First thing’s first. Proposals.”

Makoto gulped as Haru adjusted himself on the sofa, his eyes determined, and yet, filled with such kindness that Makoto felt like he was melting. Of course only Haru could look this way, and still make Makoto fall to his knees. The brown-haired boy sighed and sat next to his best friend with his eyes closed.

“You go first, Haru-chan.”

“Okay.”

Haru cleared his throat, and took a couple of deep breaths. Makoto peeked through his closed eyelids, and wanted to hold his face when he saw Haru blushing, and repeatedly clearing his throat. It gave him a strange sense of jubilancy that Haru was nervous, and was not afraid to show it.

“Makoto.”

“Yes, Haru.”

“You’re my best friend,” Haru breathed, “and you always take care of me. You may be clumsy and not able to cook as well as you’d hoped, but I’ve always loved how hard you try at things. How hard you try to do things for the people you love, for me.”

Makoto felt his throat close up, and he reminded himself to breathe.

“I want to take care of you. I love you, and each minute that I spend with you, I wonder how I was so lucky to have met you, to have loved you. To have you love me.”

Reaching forward, Haru pulled Makoto’s hands and held them with his, his palms sweaty. Makoto smiled, even through the tears threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“And… for you to protect me always, is something I never asked for. But I am so grateful for you, and I am so lucky to be loved by you. So please, Makoto, let me return the favor for the rest of my life. If you’ll let me.”

Haru slowly lifts his face and watches Makoto’s reaction, patiently waiting as he clutched onto Makoto’s hands. With thoughts and feelings running wild and pounding in his head and heart, Makoto could not resist the urge to kiss Haru. And so he did, with the force of Haru’s words pushing him forward, encouraging him. Haru smiled as he welcomed his best friend into his arms, letting him kiss everywhere -- his cheeks, his lips, his forehead, his nose, his eyelids -- everywhere.

And even though Makoto did not propose that night, Makoto spoke with his lips, and told stories along Haru’s skin about love and hope, and how he’d never disappoint the person who made him the happiest. With a gentle smile, Makoto promised to always love Haru unconditionally, and would always catch Haru if he fell, and with their eyes, they sealed their promises and locked it away in their hearts, keeping the keys safe. Makoto made dinner that night, after they held each other for a few hours. He made mackerel and hummed his favorite song as he grilled the fish, and even though he knew it didn’t taste as well as Haru’s fish was, Haru still smiled and thanked Makoto for dinner. Wholeheartedly, honestly, so very Haru. Makoto smiled and kissed Haru’s lips before holding Haru in his arms, their fingers intertwined, lacing their lifelines together.

Everything was for Haru, after all.


End file.
